


Day 257

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [257]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [257]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 257

Reputation was a funny thing, it could be an asset or it could be the death of you depending on the circumstances. Sketch had experienced the latter recently when he was on assignment in Kirkwall. Blighted Leliana and her big mouth. Between the Qunari, Antivans, Rivani, Fereldons and the Carta he had barely made it out alive. Hopefully, now that she was the Left Hand of the Divine, she would downplay her scandalous past just a little bit.

It was, however, this reputation that had earned him this second chance. A representative from the Resolutonistshad heard of his interests in the long-uncovered places under Kirkwall and offered to suppose his research. With the Qunari gone and the Carta wandering the Deep Roads, he would have some breathing room to work. The other groups might still be around, or they might have been wiped out when Hawke had rescued Sketch from them last year.

There were plenty of mages hiding in the darker places of the city. The templars liked to pretend that they had the city on lockdown but most templars Sketch had encountered couldn’t find a mage if they were fireballing them in the face. Most of the old ruins if Kirkwall were long since plundered, their secrets either shared or hoarded. But there were mysteries yet to be uncovered. Sketch had been watching the progress of the Band of Three with interest, hoping to ride on their coattails to secure hidden knowledge. With their death, but also the death of the demon that hunted them, he could pick up from where they left off.

The key seemed to be in the sewer system. The most secret chambers all had grooves leading to the sweers. If you wandered the sewers with a map of the city, you could tell which drains led to discovery places and which came from secret areas. Most of these areas had already been discovered and plundered, fortunately the Band of Three had marked off many of these places so Sketch would not have to retread their steps.

Most people would have done anything to avoid a sewer but Sketch had been to far worse places in his life. He took the opportunity to collect some sela petrae while he wandered. It was an ingredient most southern mages found too volatile to work with but it had its uses. One day Sketch hopped to find a mixture that could surpass the Qunari blasting powder. He had been experimenting with different combinations but had yet to find the perfect mix.

The Sewers were extensive and he walked all day without finding anything new. That was unsurprising, if it was that easy soone would have found it already. His troubles started when he tried to make his way back through Darktown. There, he was accosted by two humans who looked like they were spoiling for a fight.

“Where did you get all that fancy gear?” asked one.

“Did you steal it?” asked the other.

“I got this gear,” Sketch said, “by being the sort of person you should leave alone.”

The humans shared a look between them and seemed to lose their nerve.

“He’s probably a mage,” said the first.

“Better to let the templars deal with this rabbit,” his companion agreed.

“That is something I cannot allow,” Sketch said. He had hoped they would mind their own business, surly the thieves of the city should know better by now. Before they could respond, Sketch launched a stonefist at the first human’s head. The stone connected with the man’s forehead and there was a wet crunching sound as the skull shattered. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Please,” whimpered the second human, dropping to his knees. “Please I won’t tell anyone that you’re here.”

“A wise promise,” Sketch said, approaching the man. “But it comes too late.” Before the human could react, Sketch drove a knife into the man’s neck. He gurgled and sputtered and took much longer to die than his friend. Whoever found their bodies would see a man with a cut throat and another with a crushed skull, no evidence that they were killed by magic. This was one of those times Sketch hoped to keep his reputation secret.


End file.
